The Hunger Games: Yet To Come
by Negotiating Kittehs Hate Me
Summary: "Society is screwed up nowadays. One minute you're happy, the next you're out for revenge; it's a cycle that we all cannot undo, and we are forever sealed in the darkness that has become of Panem. Society doesn't care if you're alive or dead. Heck, Society be damned for all they have caused us, and all that is yet to come."
1. Introduction

**_Sometimes I wonder if dying was the correct way out of District 13. Dying in that bombing, unaware of the uproar it caused in all twelve -eleven now that District 12 was no longer standing- districts. President Snow hadn't done a thing about it, and rebellion happened once more._**

**_It caused out society to collapse, just like Snow had told Katniss all those years ago. And now society is screwed up, making more and more children risk their lives each year in the Reaping._**

**_And ever since Katniss volunteered for me in the Games all those years ago, Snow hasn't made that mistake twice. He enforced a new rule: that all who chosen for the Games are unable to have a person -siblings or strangers- volunteer as tribute for them. It was horrible, and even as I watch it from the other side it still hurts me as if I was still alive._**

**_Districts 1 through 3 are slowly collapsing under the weight of their own people, the uproars and riots causing havoc in each of the districts. Districts 4 through 8 are just as bad, but with piles and piles of their peoples' ashes spread upon the ground, never to live in this society again. I can't blame them, honestly; who would want to live in that kind of world, where people are losing faith along with their lives?_**

**_Districts 9-11 are decent. No one has died yet, but almost everyone knows it's only a matter of time until they too are wallowing in sorrow and defeat, just like the rest of them._**

**_All that remains is District 13- my home and the place I died._**

**_District 13 is also the place where Snow attacked first, trying to find my sister after she had gone into hiding, leaving Peeta and their two children alone with my mother and I. Peeta became a drunk, much like his mentor Haymitch Albernathy, and his two children were left under the care of my mother and I when Peeta often left to go drink._**

**_Their children would ask where they were. I couldn't answer them, for my words would always get caught in my throat. I didn't want to worry them that one day their parents might not come back, so neither my mother or I told them anything. It hurt me to not tell them, but I couldn't risk them going out to find Katniss or Peeta, even if they were family._**

**_I watched Katniss and Peeta's children grow up to the age of four when I passed onto the other side. Peeta stopped drinking and cared for his children after my mother was transferred to work in a hospital in District 4, and I watch them proudly from the other side, hoping one day Katniss will join them._**

**_Our Society has crashed._**

**_Our Society will never be the same._**

**_The Districts have lost all hope._**

**_They have lost their Mockingjay._**


	2. Reaping Day

_**District Thirteen: Genevieve Mellark, age 13. Reaping Day**_

_**I was named for greatness, often being known as the child with high expectations of all who knew me. Even my father wanted me to be the greatest, no matter how long it took.**_

_**"You are great, Genevieve. Prove it to everyone." My father would often say at night as he waiting for me to fall asleep, though he knew I wouldn't.**_

_**I couldn't sleep knowing my mother was on the run.**_

_**I couldn't sleep knowing that she may not come back.**_

_**And so my father would lay on the floor at night beside my bed, holding my hand and whispering soothing words to me. "She'll come back..." He would say, his voice hushed to a small and barely audible whisper.**_

_**I knew he was reassuring himself as much as me. Maybe even a little more.**_

* * *

When I wake, darkness surrounds me and I immediately know it's still dark outside, probably around two in the morning. This always happens on these types of mornings; I'm unable to sleep and it results in me being snappish and what my father calls 'ornery' to him and my brother, Cambric.

At two in the morning Cambric is still fast asleep, oblivious to what day it is until he wakes up. I envy him for being a deep sleeper while I reside in light-sleeping mode every night, even the slightest movement causing me to wake up and not be able to go back to sleep.

I can hear noises from across the hallway, and I know my father must be up for some peculiar reason. He must know whenever I wake, because other than these specific days he usually sleeps in. But not today.

Today is the Reaping, and I'm surprised Cambric is sleeping soundly despite the tension that is clear in the air.

I get on my hands and knees for a swift second then force myself onto my large windowsill, where I can see all the other small houses around us. Splinters of wood peek out of the cracked piece of floorboard my father put up here so that I could sit and look at the vast land beyond us, and I carefully sit down and lean against the window, aware that my father could come in and find me any minute.

A movement from the other side of the room comes into my vision, and I turn to find Cambric sitting up in his bed, propping himself up on his elbow. His light blue eyes, much like my mothers, stare at me intently as if he's waiting for me to say something.

"Can't sleep?" I ask, wondering how he of all people could possibly sleep during a time like this.

"You could say that." Cambric replies, a smile appearing on his face. He has my father's looks and my mother's eyes; I however look nothing like either of my parents, so many people are often shocked when Cambric and I say that we are siblings.

It takes me a moment to realize that Cambric is suddenly sitting beside me, staring out the window with an expressionless look in his eyes to match his features. My brother does not move one bit or make a sound, other than his light breathing. "Today's the day, isn't it?" Cambric wonders aloud, as if he had forgotten until that moment.

"Unfortunately." I say, grabbing my pillow from below both of us and picking at a seam to keep myself busy. "How many times is your name in?"

"Same as yours, Gen." He replies, his voice rough and hinted with anger. "Same as yours."

Neither of us speak after that, allowing silence to sit in between us like a third person. Everyone in Panem dreads the Reaping that will happen in at least thirteen hours, where one male and female are chosen to fight for their deaths - and no one can volunteer for them. I shudder and shake my head. I can't think about it now, it's hours away.

"Genevieve?" Cambric asks, placing a hand on my shoulder to steady me. His eyes are worried, I can tell by just looking into them. "You okay?"

I nod solemnly, unable to speak. For a moment we just sit there, staring at one another before Cambric leans forward and embraces me. I do the same, both of us clinging to one another like our lives depend on it. I begin to sob in both fear and anger at the Capitol for doing this to us, to my parents and for every generation to come.

"You're okay, Gen." Cambric whispers, rubbing my back soothingly like father used to do. "You're okay."

I know he's wrong beyond belief, yet I agree with him.

* * *

Hours pass, and neither Cambric or myself has moved from the windowsill. We sit there, still like time has frozen on us. We don't talk, we don't move... Just sit.

I suddenly speak as the sun rises, cascading a wonderful glow on Cambric's face. "I wonder if mom will ever come back."

He looks at me in shock. Neither Cambric or my father have ever heard me speak about my mother, for they believed it was always too depressing to even mention the slightest bit about her. He looks away from me for a moment then back again, a emotionless expression gracing his face. "Perhaps it's best if she doesn't come back."

"How can you say that?" I gasp, genuinely shocked that my kind-hearted brother would say such a thing. "She's our mother, Cambric! She's going to come back to us!"

"Then why isn't she here now, Genevieve?" His voice is rising, and I can tell he's becoming angry. "Why isn't she here with all of us in a time like this?"

I freeze, unable to answer his demanding question. He has a point, as much as I hate to admit it; Katniss, my mother should be here in a time like this... She should be here, caring for us instead of leaving my father Peeta to do all of it. She should be here...

Except she's not, and she may never come back.

Cambric shakes his head and a smirk appears on his face. "It's almost time." He climbs down from the windowsill and extends his hand, offering it to me so that I don't fall on my face.

I gratefully take it and Cambric helps me down to the floor, setting me down as if I'm a china doll and will break with ease. Cambric sighs and looks at me, his eyes dull with sudden dread and exhaustion. "You go first." He insists, moving aside so that I'm the first one to go out the bedroom door.

I take a step forward and listen as Cambric follows, knowing all good and well it's going to take a lot of work to get me out of my house and into the Reaping.

* * *

The last few hours are a blur, and before I know it I'm dressed and ready to go. Cambric stands beside me, braiding my hair since Peeta doesn't know how too. My father stands off to the side, watching for the members of the Capitol to come and take us away while he follows among the other parents.

Just as Cambric finishes braiding my hair and fastens in a bow to hold it in place, my father steps back from the window, quickly walking over to us just as Capitol members storm through the door, almost making it come off it's hinges. A tall man steps forward while the other two stay back, as if protecting the man from anything behind him. "Cambric and Genevieve Mellark, come with us."

I cling to my father as if I'm six again, not wanting to leave him. Cambric pries me away from him and I scream as if I'm in pain, but the Capitol members take no notice and usher us out the door, leaving my father alone until he's allowed to come out with the other parents. I keep my eyes on our small house until it's no longer in sight and we're at the Reaping.

It's full of kids my age and older, and there is barely any space to move around by the time I'm able to sit amongst my age group and gender. I can't see Cambric anywhere, and that worries me.

A woman wearing a bright orange dress full of what appears to be feathers steps out into the stage, her horribly makeup-plastered face breaking out in a smile. "Happy Hunger Games!" She practically yells into the microphone in front of her, and I force myself not to cringe. I block out the rest of the announcements, from the video explaining how the Hunger Games came to be to the reading of the Treaty of Treason. Finally, the woman whose name I recall is Lucia says that it's time to announce the tributes for District 13.

"As usual," Lucia remarks, the fake smile still plastered into her face, "Ladies first." She steps away from the microphone and begins to descend towards a glass bowl full of small white slips of paper. Several of them have my name on it, and I can only hope that it isn't me.

Rummaging through the bowl and mixing the names around Lucia finally is satisfied and pulls one out, making her way back to the microphone in a matter of seconds. "Genevieve Mellark!" Lucia calls, and time seems to stop.

It can't be me... It has to be a mistake!

I feel weighed down as I take one step after the other, not feeling as if I'm in my body. Within a few moments I'm standing beside Lucia, waiting as she moves toward the glass bowl containing the male names. She picks one quickly and rushes back to the microphone, as if she's quite excited about her pick. "Asher Hastings!"

Oh gosh. Not him, anyone but him! I'd rather have my brother than him!

Asher steps out among the thirteen year old males, Cambric standing beside him and glaring after him as he makes his way towards Lucia and I. His dark brown hair falls into his light brown eyes, and I can't help but feel my heart flutter in my chest.

I mentally slap myself. What am I thinking? I couldn't like him, I barely knew him besides the fact that we were in a couple classes together at school.

Asher steps forward and extends his hand out to me, and I gently take it, shake it forcefully and step back. He stares at me for a moment before stepping back as well. I stare at the crowd, determined not to make eye contact with him any more than I need too.

Lucia steps in front of both of Asher and I and pulls us along with her. "I present to you the tributes for District 13, Genevieve Mellark and Asher Hastings!" She claps for us, yet no one else does. Instead they all press three fingers to their lips and hold them to the sky, and I know what they are doing.

They're saying goodbye to both of us. They're saying goodbye to people they love.

I do the same on instinct, unaware of the shocked glance Lucia gives me. Asher follows my lead and I'm genuinely surprised at this, because no one ever follows my leads for anything.

We're ushered away before we can even say anything, taken to a small cell-like room, where I'm hoping my family will come and say goodbye for me like they never got to do with my mother.


	3. Visits and Surprise Mentor

**_District Thirteen: Genevieve Mellark, age 13. Reaping Day_**

The minute the door to my corridors open, I'm hoping it's my brother or father. My prediction was right as Cambric steps inside, my father following his lead and neither of them saying anything. They don't need too; I know what they want to say yet they don't have the courage to say it. I run to my father as if I'm being chased and cling to him, wishing I was six again and this wouldn't be happening. My father sighs sadly and hugs me back before letting me go all too quickly, but I immediately turn to Cambric on instinct. Tears are in both of our eyes as we embrace one another, and I can feel Cambric's tears soaking my faded blue blouse as both of us begin to sob in one another's arms.

"You're going to come back, Gen." Cambric whispers into my hair before he lets go, my body getting a sudden rush of cold now that his body heat isn't radiating onto me. "You've got too. Promise me."

"But how can I?" My voice is scratchy and harsh-sounding as if I haven't used it in years. "I don't know how to hunt, don't know how to even build a fire! How can I possibly survive if I know nothing?"

"You're clever and quick on your feet, Genevieve." Father cuts Cambric off from answering my questions, and by the look in his eyes I know he's speaking the truth. "Use that as an advantage." Cambric nods in silent agreement, casting Father a glance from the corner of his eye. Taking my silence as a cue to continue, Father starts up again. "You don't have to be the best at what the others are, Genevieve."

"But you always told me I had too." I say, feeling my eyes burn with hot tears again.

Father steps forward and takes my hands in his, looking into my eyes as he speaks. "You already are, Gen. You already are."

* * *

Time passes, and no one else has come to visit me. It's as if no one was sincere with saying goodbye. Perhaps it was all an act.

I pace the room, hopeful that someone will come and see me other than my family that has left quite a while ago. I have never felt so alone, so isolated, so shut off from the world in my entire life. Maybe that's what my mother wanted -to be shut off from the world.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I can't think about my mother now, not in a time like this.

The door to my corridor opens and I glance up, hoping it's my brother and that maybe he was able to come back and see me for a final time. But when the shape steps through the door, it's not Cambric or even my father.

It's Asher, my fellow tribute.

"You're Genevieve, right?" He asks, and I scoff. It's as if he can't remember the last few hours, as if he can't remember that I'm the other person he's supposedly out to kill from this day until the Games are finished.

I nod, and that's it. I don't speak, don't move a muscle. I just nod.

He takes it as his cue to continue. "So I hear that you're good with spears and knives. Is that correct?" A smirk appears on his face, and I hold back the urge to slap him. He has a point, as much as I dread to admit it; I am good with knives and excellent with spears. After all I'm the one in my family sought out for hunting, and doesn't get squeamish when I cut it open and disembody it's insides; that's the main reason my brother and father rely on me most of the time.

I nod again, and Asher rocks back and forth on his feet. I know he senses the tension between us, just doesn't want to admit it. "So I guess I'll see you on the train?" He says before turning around and leaving without giving me time to answer. I stare after him, feeling as if nothing matters anymore.

Asher and I will be out to kill each other in few days time. My feelings can't get in the middle of it. Not now.

* * *

Lucia comes to get me for the train a few hours later. I don't want to go, to leave my family and everything I know behind and possibly end up dead in a few days time but I know I have to go. I reluctantly stop my pacing and follow her out of the room, suddenly running straight into Asher. He and I exchange apologies but nothing more and continue walking as if nothing has happened.

We finally reach the spot where the train is located at, and Lucia turns to Asher and I, her hands clasped together excitedly. "Now, your training will begin first thing tomorrow morning, but you mustn't show your favored skill."

"That's quite odd." I say, unable to stop myself before the words are out.

"Genevieve," Asher warns, but I take no notice and continue with my statement.

"If we can't use our favored skill, how are we supposed to even live in the Games?" I ask, and Lucia holds up her hand to stop me before I can go on.

"I will explain it all on the way to the Capitol." Lucia says, fixing her skirt that is starting to ride up on her, making it look extremely short. "Now, allow me to introduce your mentors, who will be responsible for getting both of you sponsors."

The door to the train opens and two people step outside into the summer-like air, and I stare at both of them in shock.

One, a male, is Haymitch Albernathy, my parents' old mentor.

The other one I'm not sure about. But as I study her carefully, it hits me.

That dark hair.

Those light blue eyes.

I know who she is, and I only wish my father and brother were here to see this.

It's my mother, Katniss.


	4. Train Ride & Nightmares

_**Alright people- I've changed Genevieve and Asher's age to 15 because there's some lovey-dovey stuff in this chapter, and it seems more appropriate if they're 15 in this story instead of 13… Yeah, well, enjoy! :)**_

_**District 13: Genevieve Mellark- Age 15.**_

I stare at my mother in awe and shock; why is she here? Shouldn't she be captured by the Capitol? I can't answer my own question, and that worries me.

Asher stands up straight and bows to Katniss and Haymitch, and I in retrospect don't do anything. "Genevieve! Show some respect to your mentors!" Lucia whispers harshly in my ear, quiet enough so the mentors do not hear but sharp enough to get her point across. After a moment of consideration I curtsy, wanting to show that I am not as poorly-mannered as I seem coming from District 13. Katniss smiles at me, and by the look in her eyes she knows it's her own child, and to be honest I'm not surprised -unless she wasn't there at the Reaping announcement through the Capitol and Peeta told her I was picked, then she couldn't possibly know any other way. That has to be it.

Haymitch looks at Asher for a moment before turning to me. He shares a glance with Katniss as if to ask a question, and when he speaks it seems my mother has answered it. "Welcome, Genevieve and Asher." Obviously he asked what our names were, and I stifle a small laugh.

"Haymitch Albernathy," Asher's voice is clear as if in awe, and by the look in his eyes when I cast him a glance I can tell he feels honored. "It's an honor to meet you." I roll my eyes; who does Asher think this guy is, some type of God? From what Father has told me, Haymitch is a terrible sponsor-organizer, and is often drunk. Why would anyone want to be in his presence? Surely not me, I'm lucky enough to be in my mother's presence, for that matter. And that's saying something -not a lot of District 13 children are mentored by people who win the Games the previous year, it almost never happens. We -and everyone else in the Districts above us- are usually trained by those who have been victors for several years -maybe even decades.

Haymitch smiles at Asher but doesn't reply, instead motions for us to enter the train. "Ladies first," He says, and Asher steps back from Katniss and I, a smirk lightly poking at his lips. I fight back the urge to elbow him in the ribs and proceed to enter the large car of the train, Katniss and Lucia following me slowly as if I contain a disease, but when I look back at them I see they are making small talk and casting glances at me. Haymitch and Asher immediately enter after Katniss, Lucia on the hard, butt-numbing looking chairs and I sit at the table, not making a sound or move until everyone is inside. Asher takes a seat a few chairs away from me, and I can tell he's uncomfortable with all of this.

"Now," Haymitch begins, leaning forward in his chair, "You both are here to-"

"Take a shot at killing the other? Oh yes, sounds fascinating." I say with a mocking excited tone, and Asher smiles and lets a small laugh escape his lungs, and I feel my cheeks grow warm from embarrassment; I move my hair in front of my face so he can't see, and watch as Lucia, Katniss, and Haymitch all turn in my direction.

Lucia is the first to speak up. "Genevieve! That is no way to treat this situation!"

"If I may interrupt this… Conversation," My mother finally pipes up, and I focus all my attention on her, blocking out Haymitch and Lucia bickering to one another about nonsense. "Peeta and I," Her voice cracks as she says Father's name. "We didn't take the situation seriously in the beginning, but when it came time to go into the arena we both woke up from our daze. Perhaps Genevieve and Asher will be the same way?"

Lucia looks at my mother for a moment, pondering her theory. "Well, perhaps… But that still is-"

"Lucia," Haymitch says, cutting the escort off from speaking. "Let it go, it's over and done with."

Lucia huffs in response and sits back, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance as if she is four. I smile at her and shake my head, glancing back at Asher as I do so. He's smiling behind his hand, which is now covering his mouth in an attempt to block out the large laugh that I know wants to leave him.

"Anyway," Haymitch says, folding his hands in his lap and acting all proper, "You both are here to make an impression on the Capitol and the other Districts."

"That should be easy with you as our mentor," I say, not ashamed if I offend him.

Haymitch chuckles under his breath and nods his head in my direction before turning to Lucia and Katniss. "This ones got spunk and a mouth on her. I like her already!" He casts a glance at my mother and continues. "She reminds me of you during your Games, Katniss."

My mother smiles but doesn't say anything in response, instead her eyes are fixed on me for a moment before they cascade over to Asher, who is now sitting beside me. I try not to notice his presence until he speaks for the first time since we got on the train. "So, exactly how are we supposed to live in the Games if we can't use our chosen skill?"

Haymitch, Lucia, and my mother all smile at him, genuine pride and amazement in their eyes. "Well, young boy," Haymitch begins, but Katniss interrupts him before he can go on, which I am grateful for; I'd rather hear my mother's answer than a drunk's any day.

"You'll be able to use your chosen skill once they do the individual assessment on both of you." She remarks, glancing at Haymtch as she speaks. "But one thing you shouldn't do is show the other tributes your skills in the actual training area. It gives them an insight on what you're looking for in the actual arena, and it gives them an advantage to take it from you in a matter of seconds." I ponder this as she continues, going on about how to survive and how to get your weapon that you've chosen from another person besides killing them and snatching it. Would that work for me? I don't know much about plants or bows or any of that sort, but a spear or knife would work fine for me -if I can find one before the other tributes can.

I have to win the Games. I made a promise to my father, my brother and now I'm vowing it for my mother.

I glance at Asher, who is focused on my mother and listening intently to every word she's saying.

What if he also made that promise, and intends to keep it, no matter what happens?

* * *

_I'm falling -falling into a black pit that looks like it has no way out. I scream, scream at the top of my lungs in hopes that someone will hear me. It doesn't work no matter how loud I scream, no matter how hard I try. _

_I land on the ground with a hard thump, and I'm suddenly transported into a game-like system, where trees surround me and birds call in the air. _

_"Well, well, well…" I freeze at the sound of a masculine voice behind a tree, hidden in the shadows before he appears. I turn to run, yet I can't move an inch or do anything except stand there, frozen as fear snakes through out my body. _

_It's Asher; he has a bow and an arrow drawn, pointed at my chest. I know what he's doing: he wants to shoot. _

_"No, please!" I yell, hoping a bird or something will swoop down and carry me away from this place, get me out of this nightmare. "Don't shoot! I'm not what you think I am!" _

_Asher laughs, and that's all he does. He suddenly smirks and a low, enraged sound escapes him in the form of words. "I know what you are, Genevieve. You're the offspring of that Girl on Fire. Of course you'll win, because it's what your mother got. You'll win while the rest of us lay here, dead on the ground and decaying down to bones and ash." He laughs again and narrows his eyes on me, raising his arms and straightening the arrow on the bow. "I'm not letting that happen -not for a minute." _

_He lets the arrow fly, and that's when I scream for real. _

* * *

"Genevieve! Wake up!"

I sit bolt upright, shaking and sweating from my ordeal. I thrash and turn, trying to get away from whatever has it's grip on my shoulders, screaming once more. "Hey, hey! You're alright! It's me!" The voice of Asher creeps into my ears, and I scream again, smacking him over and over again in hopes he'll get my message and let go of me. He ignores my screams and tightens his grip on my shoulders, not letting go. Tears of anger at him flow down my face, and when I finally stop thrashing, smacking, and screaming I turn to look at him. He's in his pajamas, as am I and his eyes are wide in worry.

I lift a shaking hand and wipe sweat from my forehead, trying to calm my breathing. "I-I'm sorry… It was a bad dream. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine, Genevieve. You don't have to apologize." He says, his light brown eyes warm with something I can't comprehend.

I bury my face in my hands, feeling embarrassed and ashamed that I woke him in the dead of night. "It was my fault you woke up. It won't happen anymore."

I forget that I'm crying until Asher lightly wipes a tear from my cheek with his shirt sleeve, and as he does this I can feel his eyes on me. "It's not your fault, really. I had one of my own and couldn't go back to sleep, and when I heard you… Well, I took matters into my own hands."

He releases his grip on my shoulders, gets up from the bed and heads towards the door. He turns the knob and is about to leave when I remove my face from my hands and call, "Asher!"

He turns at the sound of his name leaving my lungs. "What?" He asks, leaning against the doorway and trying to look casual.

I take a deep breath, unprepared for the words coming out of my mouth. "Will you stay with me?" I cover my mouth with my hand and stare at him, my eyes growing wide in shock at myself for saying something like that.

He smiles at me and makes his way across the room, and I know he agrees with the question. "Yeah, but just for tonight since no one else would want too." There's a joking tone in his voice, and I can't help but smile for the first time in years when he sits in a chair across from me, watching me as I turn over in my bed and try to fall back asleep.

I toss and turn, unable to sleep for the next few hours. Finally I turn on my side so that I'm facing Asher, and surprised to find him still awake. "Why aren't you sleeping?" I ask, confused as to why he isn't on the floor snoring by now like most guys would be.

"I can't, same as you." He says, sincere with his answer. He suddenly shivers, and I can tell he's freezing without a blanket.

I sit up in my bed and scoot against the wall, patting the space next to me. "It's wide enough for both of us to sleep," I say when I notice the awkward look in his eyes. "Do you want warmth or not?"

He slowly gets up from the chair and crosses the small amount of space from the chair to my bed, sitting on the edge of it and not moving any closer. "Oh, come on Asher," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not going to bite you. I don't do that to anyone besides my brother." When he doesn't move at all for several moments I lean forward, grab his arm and tug, urging him to lay on the bed. "Oh my gosh, you're worse than my brother." I slam my hand down on the space next to me, my eyes hard and narrowed. "Would you just sleep on the freaking bed already? I don't bite or have any diseases like herpes if that's what you're afraid of."

I sigh in relief as he finally takes up the offer and lay down next to me, a small space on the mattress separating us from making any skin-on-skin contact. I throw the sheets overtop of him, not caring if I'm cold all throughout the night. I just want him to be warm and healthy; I don't care about myself. I listen as his breathing slows and he finally falls asleep, and slowly that lulls me into the warm comfort of sleep as well. I lay down and close my eyes, feeling as he shifts his weight onto his other side, throwing his arm around my shoulders and not even realizing it.

I don't move away, for some odd reason. I just lay there, allowing Asher to pull me close to his body, sharing his warmth with me as I slowly fall into the unconsciousness of sleep, not caring if anyone calls us the 'star-crossed lovers' like they did with my parents.

Because honestly, I have feelings for Asher that I never even realized until we got thrown into this mess. I have deep feelings for him, like love and happiness: two things I haven't felt in quite a long time.


End file.
